


Not Necessarily Complaining

by tamerofdarkstars



Category: Leverage
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Five Times, Fluff, Kissing, Kissing as a Distraction from Certain Doom, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-04-07
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:48:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3701193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamerofdarkstars/pseuds/tamerofdarkstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times the Leverage team kissed their way out of a con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Necessarily Complaining

**Author's Note:**

> I finally finished season five so in celebration here's some fluffy kissing drabbles!

_one_ – Parker/Hardison

Oh, it had gone so south so fast, damn it, Hardison wasn’t supposed to be out here like this, this was Sophie’s game, man, Sophie and Nate should have wrapped this up ages ago, but then the mark had to go and punch Nate in the throat and send him crumpling to the ground, slumping against the cabinet, and Sophie was talking, too high and too fast, her persona unraveling just enough for the team to see the light shining through the cracks. 

Who did Sophie think she was fooling, _seriously_ , the only person in the city who couldn’t see the heavy attraction between their fearless leaders was, well, their fearless leaders themselves.

Hardison scrambled out from behind the potted plant, sliding into a self-assured walk as he adjusted his bow-tie. The tux was a bit tight across the shoulders, but it was all he could find on such a short notice, ok, lay off. He caught Parker by the elbow as he walked past her, weaving easily through the crowd.

“Hardison,” Parker hissed, adjusting her tray of appetizers, “what’re you doing?”

“Improvising,” He hissed back, throwing a smile at a nearby woman as he steered Parker around the corner. As soon as they were within sight of the mark’s office, he pitched his voice up and started to yell.

“Oh, come on now, babe, don’t be like that…!”

Parker caught on immediately and her tray vanished somewhere without Hardison noticing – honestly, he wasn’t gonna ask exactly where, ok, he wasn’t totally convinced Parker didn’t have superpowers. “Oh, please,” she spat, twisting her face as ugly as she could. “You think I haven’t noticed you watching him? I mean I don’t care that you like men too, but don’t you think I might have wanted to at least watch?”

Hardison spluttered out something that might have been a sentence fragment or two (because seriously, _what)_  before Parker had shoved him back against the wall and stars exploded behind his eyes. She pressed herself all up against his front, kissing him with a single-minded determination that was just so _so_ sexy and Hardison let the con fall away, let himself get lost in the wild thrill that was kissing a girl who leapt off buildings for fun.

Seconds or years later, Hardison couldn’t be sure which, Parker pulled away with a beam. “Woo!” she grinned, flicking her bangs out of her eyes. “Great idea, Hardison!” She patted him on the cheek and sashayed away back towards the party. Hardison watched her go, blinking rapidly as his cloudy brain rebooted and started humming again.

Their commotion had drawn the attention of the party – perfect – giving Nate and Sophie the perfect cover to slip away into the background.

Which was totally his plan all along? Uh, yeah, totally. Yep. Grade A Alec Hardison plan right there.

“Uh, right. Idea. Right. Imma just…” He motioned behind him, realized no one was listening and scratched his head. “Yeah.”

 

 -

 

 _two –_ Nate/Sophie

To be fair, Nate felt like he’d made his feelings on the Cupid Shuffle perfectly clear, but Sophie had insisted that it would work.

Well, it _sort_ of worked. He had to give her credit there – the mark was certainly _interested._

Just… not in Sophie.

Nate kept the pleasant smile on his face as the mark swayed into him, more than a little drunk. There was a hand at his elbow and the heat of another thigh pressed against his and, well, ok, he could roll with this. Parker was still in the vault and by Hardison’s count in his ear, she needed at least two or three more minutes. Besides, if the guy decided to get handsy, Eliot was always nearby to…

Er, or not – Eliot had vanished from the corner he’d been staking out not five minutes earlier. Shoot.

“Yeah,” Nate said belatedly, realizing the mark had asked him a question. He hoped yeah was the right answer. “Sure, uh, yeah, uh-huh.”

“Really?” The mark’s eyes fluttered and Hardison choked out a laugh in Nate’s ear.

Hm, apparently, yeah had not been the right answer. What exactly had he just agreed to?

 _“Nate, pay attention!”_ Eliot growled and under his snarl, Sophie cursed. That got Nate’s attention – Sophie didn’t usually spit her words like that, chewing them into a pulp like they were something disgusting she didn’t want to spend another second thinking about.

He looked up and met her eyes from across the room – she was striding towards them, shoulders thrown back and he watched in fascination as her irritated expression melted into a sultry little smile, her shoulders slumped forward and her hips swayed. She’d transformed, and damn, Nate never got tired of watching that. It was like magic.

“ _Mon amour, je te cherchais!_ ” Sophie cried, reproachfully, sweeping past the mark in a cloud of perfume and presence. She stepped straight into Nate’s personal space, flung an arm around his neck, and kissed him on the mouth.

Nate’s entire plan immediately flew out the window as Sophie parted his lips expertly, clearly determined to put on a bit of a show for the flummoxed mark.

And well, hey, he wasn’t exactly _complaining_.

Nate waited a beat, then two before his brain got itself in gear and he wrapped his arms around Sophie’s waist, pulling her close, nearly lifting her off her feet as he returned her kiss.

She made a soft noise into his mouth that he was sure wasn’t part of the grift – well, ok, he was _pretty_ sure – and not even Hardison yelling in his ear about bleaching his brain could ruin this moment.

Well, ok, he probably should have seen the mark yanking them apart as a possible outcome of that little situation. But in his defense, his brain was a little scrambled.

The mark was yelling, swaying on the spot and Sophie was calmly snapping back in French too rapid for Nate’s high school skills to catch, but he was too busy watching her lips move anyway to worry about the actual words.

 _“Nate, I got it, I’m out_.” Parker’s voice cut through his haze like a knife through butter and he snapped his spine into place, suddenly remembering exactly why they were there in the first place.

How could he have gotten distracted from the job?

“Excellent, great job, Parker,” he muttered into his hand, pretending to scratch his nose. “Everyone, pack it up, that’s a wrap.”

He stepped forward and calmly intercepted the mark as he stepped towards Sophie, forcing the man to stumble back and sit on the stool behind him.

“Make sure he gets home, huh?” Nate asked the man behind the bar. The guy nodded, clearly used to the request, and Nate slid an arm around Sophie’s waist, steering her towards the exit.

And if he leaned maybe a bit closer to her than was strictly professional, well, it was all part of the con, now wasn’t it?

 

-

_three_ – Eliot/Hardison

Ok, the mark may be a greedy, lying son of a bitch, but damn did he have a nice kitchen. Eliot listened carefully to the conversation behind him as he chopped onion, sweeping the pieces into the sizzling pan on the glass-topped stove.

“You getting this?” he muttered. Behind him, Hardison snorted.

“Seventy-eight percent downloaded and their phones’ll be cleaner than this kitchen. You know I can see my face in this pan?”

“Food safety’s important, Hardison.” Eliot turned, reaching around the hacker for the bag of baby carrots and felt Hardison’s chuckle.

“Food safety’s one thing. Food safety obsession is another. Seriously, I been cleanin’ this damn counter for twenty minutes and it still ain’t up to Nosy Maloney’s impossibly high standards.” Hardison shot a glare at the wall that currently separated the mark and his wife from them.

 “Shut up, you idiot, they’ll hear you.” Eliot listened, hard, over the sounds of crackling oil and Hardison’s grumbling for the tell-tale step of anyone approaching their location.

“I’m just sayin’, aight, I’m just sayin’ no counter on planet earth needs to be this clean, ok, this is like, _spooky_ clean.”

“Hardison.” Eliot’s heart rate picked up. Footsteps were coming – two guys, heavy step. Shit.

“What, man, need me to taste somethin’ ‘cause yes please—”

“Hardison, sh—”

The footsteps were getting closer. Eliot ran through several scenarios and outcomes quickly, discarding most of them. No fighting – not with the mark and his wife feet from them and Hardison’s stupid thing not done scanning their phones. Especially not with Hardison in the room, feet from the action.

The pool in San Lorenzo flashed into Eliot’s mind and his chest tightened, blood singing.

“Play along, Hardison,” he growled and Hardison glanced over his shoulder at him.

“Huh? Play along?”

But Eliot wasn’t listening to Hardison – he was listening to the steps that he was now ninety percent sure were ex-military and forcing down the familiar, swirling, choking fear that Hardison was going to do something insanely stupid and get himself killed.

“Play along,” he gritted out, putting down the knife within reach and wiping his fingers on the towel slung over his shoulder.

“Play along with _what_ , man—”

But Eliot had turned swiftly on the balls of his feet, grabbing Hardison by the shoulder and, spinning the man away from where he was pretending to wipe the countertops, shoved him back into the counter and yanked him down into a messy kiss.

Hardison made a frantic whine, going impossibly still against Eliot’s lips. Eliot had Hardison’s shirt in both fists, and his eyes were wide open, glaring at Hardison, trying to glower him into silence. Hardison stared back at him for two long seconds and Eliot turned his attention to the footsteps, listening to them thump closer and then Hardison leaned into Eliot and fingertips brushed Eliot’s left hip and _Hardison started to kiss him back_.

Eliot was momentarily thrown by sheer and total shock, mind going dangerously blank for a split second before he remembered where he was and what he was doing and _damn_ it, Hardison.

The footsteps stopped in the kitchen, five feet from Eliot’s right hand which was currently still fisted in Hardison’s shirt, and a throat cleared itself awkwardly.

“The fuck is goin’ on in here?” demanded a voice and Eliot broke away from Hardison, but didn’t back up. They stared at each other for a second, Hardison’s eyes huge and round, and Eliot cleared his throat, looking down bashfully and glancing at the muscle that was gaping at them from the kitchen door.

“Hey, man, uh, you mind,” he jerked his head at Hardison, “mind givin’ us a little privacy in here? Huh?” He gave a little half-smile, making sure to keep it awkward and swayed into Hardison like he couldn’t stay away.

Muscle glanced at his buddy and made a face. “People _eat_ in here,” he complained and the buddy shrugged.

“You think they’re the first to fuck in the kitchen?” Buddy smirked and Muscle gagged.

“Dude,” and damn, if Hardison’s voice a little raspy and croaking didn’t send a shiver down Eliot’s spine. “Will you please get the fuck out?”

Eliot let his eyes flutter at the crack in Hardison’s voice at the end of the question and Buddy rolled his eyes, nudging Muscle and steering him from the room.

They stayed frozen in position for several long seconds, hearts beating in unison.

“Uh,” Hardison cleared his throat. “Y-You know, Eliot, uh, they might, uh, they might come back.”

Eliot tore his mind back from where he’d been counting the steps walking away and realized that Hardison’s hand was still firm on Eliot’s hip.

“I don’t think—” He started but Hardison cut him off.

“You ain’t listenin’, El, they might come back. We should, uh, be prepared.”

Oh. Ohhh. Eliot smirked. “That good at it, was I?”

Hardison snorted. “Uh, no, ‘scuse you, mister velvet lips, ok, I am just trying to be prepared. In case of emergencies, you know.”

“Sure,” Eliot shoved at him lightly, waggling his eyebrows. “Velvet lips, huh?”

“You know what, ok, know what, I hate you and everythin’ you stand for.” Hardison shook his head and yanked the cable from the wall, shoving it and the phone into his pocket.

Eliot watched him turn, and the smirk on his face faded, slipping into something softer, something a little more thoughtful. For just a moment, Eliot let himself wonder.

Then he locked the feeling tight away in a little box inside his head, where no one would ever see it and raised his hand to his ear.

“Kitchen’s clear.”

 

 -

 

 _four –_ Sterling/Nate

Frankly, it was ludicrous that he was sticking around as long as he was, but he’d seen Nathan Ford from across the room, a grin on his face and an ease in his posture, and well, he couldn’t just pass that up, now could he?

James stayed where he was, marveling at the odds that brought both of them to the same hotel lobby on the same rainy Tuesday, and watched Nathan Ford work magic on what James could only assume was the hotel manager. Nate laughed delightedly, clapping the man on the shoulder and James pushed off the wall, heading for the two. If nothing else, maybe he could throw a shiver into Nate’s character, try and rattle his old fr— colleague. Nate would throw him that tight look, laden with a suspicion that only James could read and a deeper sadness that James would choose to ignore, and James would smirk and the games would begin.

So imagine James’s surprise when Nate caught sight of him over his mark’s shoulder and instead of frowning, chose to beam at him instead.

“James!” cried Nate, striding forward around the mark. James opened his mouth to speak but before he could, Nate had grabbed the sides of his face and dragged him in, kissing him full on the mouth.

James’s brain fizzled and stopped, shuddering to a confused halt before kick-starting up again twice as fast. Nate’s grip on his face was firm, but not painful, and his lips were dry and insistent and after a moment, James found himself awkwardly kissing him back.

Nate caught a breath – don’t think James didn’t notice – and the next thing he knew Nate was stepping backwards and babbling at the top of his lungs about how _long_ it had been since they’d seen each other and wow, how crazy running into James here of all places and then Nate was stepping in, wrapping hands around James in a tight hug and with breath hot in James’s ear, whispering instructions, something about arms dealers in the hotel and mismanaged maids.

Arms dealers. Here? James hadn’t been expecting a problem when he stopped off to catch a night’s sleep on his way out of the country. But he slipped into his roll easily and if he leaned a bit too close to Nate, well, no one would know.

No one, that is, except for Nathan Ford, who was infuriatingly good at reading body language and was bound to notice the quickness in James’s breath and the increased frequency with which their fingers accidentally bumped together.

And who appeared to be bumping their fingers together on purpose.

It took several minutes to shake their mark, who was indeed the hotel manager and did not appear to be a huge fan of Nate, but he finally headed down the hall alone, leaving Nate and James standing together at the bank of elevators.

There was a stretched silence for a long minute and James didn’t move, watching the manager’s retreating back until he was out of sight.

“So,” Nate broke the silence, clearing his throat. “I uh, probably owe you an explanation.”

James stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at the floor and appreciating his very expensive shoes before glancing to the side at Nate’s profile. “Should I be arresting you, Nate? Are you here to steal something from that lovely gentleman with the anger problem?”

“Well, you could, uh, you could say that,” Nate sniffed, rubbing at his nose and bouncing back and forth on the balls of his feet. “Do I need to be worried about you arresting me?”

James considered it. On the one hand, this was an absolutely brilliant opportunity. On the other hand…

He let a smirk curl his lips. “I think I’ll let this one slide. After all, Nate…” James leaned forward and breathed into Nate’s ear. “You’ve been _very_ persuasive.”

He turned and strode away down the hall, whistling softly under his breath, leaving Nate standing alone next to the elevators.

He wondered how difficult it would be to get his hands on the security footage for the hotel. James’s lips curled in a thoughtful smile.

 

-

 

 _five_ – Parker/Eliot

He kept his eyes on the flash of blonde hair, racing after Parker down the twisting hallways. Alarms were blaring, the lights flashing red over the white tiles and Eliot cursed, low and harsh as he poured on the speed.

“Eliot!” Parker gasped, throwing out her arm to stop him. He almost ran straight into her, stopping just in time.

“What now, Parker!?” he snarled, but she shook her head sharply.

“Shh! This way!” she grabbed him by the collar and yanked, sending them both stumbling through the nearest open door into a tiny room. Eliot slammed the door shut behind them, pressing his back to the wall and holding his breath.

“Hardison,” Parker hissed, fingers flying to her ear.

“ _Yeah, yeah, I hear ya babe, you two cool it in that closet for a sec, ok, two shakes and I’ll have those alarms off.”_

Eliot let out a slow breath, controlled, and listened. Under the alarms were footsteps, loud and unsteady as they pounded heavy past the door. Voices shouted, broken half-commands – the sounds of a company panicking.

Then, abruptly, the alarms cut out and the silence was stifling.

Parker let out a low unsteady breath and Eliot closed his eyes, briefly, tipping his head back against the wall. Hardison whistled in their ears, murmuring something Eliot didn’t quite catch. The words weren’t what was important – the relief in the hacker’s voice was obvious.

Then the doorknob to the closet rattled and Eliot’s eyes flew open. Parker met his gaze and an entire conversation passed between them in the space of a split second.

The door opened and light spilled into the closet.

Parker gasped, leaping away from Eliot as she burst into giggles, reaching up to redo the top button of her blouse.

“Dude,” Eliot tossed his hair out of his eyes and channeled his inner Hardison, “come on man, like, really?”

The security guy was bright scarlet. “I, uh…!”

“Can’t you just,” Parker kept her voice breathy and high, giggles clear in her eyes, and Eliot was impressed – her grifting skills had improved by leaps and bounds and he had to fight the swell of pride that rose in his throat. “Just let us have five more minutes?”

Eliot pasted innocence all over his face and the guy looked between them. “Uh, five minutes.” He attempted to look intimidating, but the blush on his face made him look about as intimidating as a terrier. Seriously. Hardison looked more intimidating.

Parker giggled for the ninetieth time in the space of twenty seconds and nudged the door shut with her toe, effectively shoving the guy back in the hallway.

Eliot relaxed minutely, dropping the stance he’d shifted into while Parker was pressed all along his front like she belonged there, all warmth and soft curves.

“Sweet, it worked!” Parker whispered. She was grinning and Eliot found himself grinning back.

“Yeah, yeah, it worked,” he jerked his head at the grate above their heads, “now get your ass up there!”

Parker snorted, darted forward and pecked him on the nose. Eliot jerked, nose wrinkling instinctually and Parker threw back her head and laughed.

“Leg up?” she asked and Eliot put his hands together obediently. She put the ball of her foot into his cupped hands and then she was in the grate and out of sight.

Eliot watched the grate for a few extra seconds when the doorknob behind him clattered, loudly, and the door cracked open.

“Ok, guys, seriously, get the hell—” The security guy blinked and Eliot bared his teeth in a sharp grin. Yeah, the uniform looked like it’d fit.

“Sorry, man,” he said and grabbed the guy by the collar. 

 

 


End file.
